


Day 18: Popping the Champagne ft. CharGild

by Pippiuscattius



Series: Pippi's Holiday Shipping Challenge: Take Two [18]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alcohol, Avalonian Magic, Champagne, Charlie Bradbury Lives, Charlie deserves to be alive and have a good consistent gf, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Established Relationship, F/F, Flirting, Girls Kissing, Holiday Shipping Challenge, Idk how Gilda got back from Avalon but just let me have this okay, Minor Castiel/Dean Winchester, Rated T for Alcohol and Language, fairy wings, just mentioned briefly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-20
Updated: 2019-12-20
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:42:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,372
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21869209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pippiuscattius/pseuds/Pippiuscattius
Summary: Charlie's staying in one of her temporary haunts with her latest companion, Gilda the fairy. In a fit of boredom (and perhaps wanting to show off), she decides to try popping the cork off a champagne bottle; the key word being "try."(This is part of a collection of silly, rushed drabbles for me to get into the holiday spirit. Make of them what you will, and happy holidays!)
Relationships: Charlie Bradbury/Gilda
Series: Pippi's Holiday Shipping Challenge: Take Two [18]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1569934
Comments: 2
Kudos: 4





	Day 18: Popping the Champagne ft. CharGild

“You’re telling me Avalon doesn’t have _booze_? What kind of operation are they running there?”

“A sober one, that’s for certain.”

Charlie wouldn’t have believed Gilda, except that she had long since discovered the fairy was honest to a fault. It was how she’d revealed her true identity to Charlie back when she’d donned that spooky black cloak and oversized deer skull. Charlie preferred the way her girlfriend looked normally, her curly brown locks askew yet graceful against her tan cheeks.

And, of course, there were the gorgeous, deceptively delicate-looking wings flapping to and fro behind her back. Their webbed, lavender surface glimmered in the sun and reflective snow out the window, drawing together and apart like a butterfly at rest.

Those wings were a relatively recent addition to Gilda’s ensemble. The fairy chose to make them visible to her girlfriend to solidify the trusting, loving bond they shared. Charlie, for one, had not stopped geeking out over having such a fantasy girlfriend.

With an abrupt screech, Charlie stood up and kicked her chair back. Gilda jumped in her seat across the table, her wings flitting momentarily.

“That settles it then,” Charlie decided. “I’ve got a nice bottle of champagne stored somewhere around here…”

Gilda frowned and crossed her arms. “If drinking it is associated with pain, I want nothing to do with it.”

Snorting under her breath, Charlie reached into one of the many cabinets in her current temporary residence. Last she remembered, she’d kept the champagne with her on her travels, saving it for a special occasion. She’d assumed that said special occasion would involve meeting up with her favorite hunter brothers at their awesome underground base, but there were more pressing matters to attend to now.

 _Sorry, Dean,_ Charlie thought, her hands slipping around the foil-encrusted neck of the bottle. _Gals before pals, in this case._

Shaking the bottle of golden drink, Charlie handed it off to Gilda. The fairy examined it cautiously, as she did many of the unfamiliar things in the human realm, and picked at the seal around the top.

“I’ve never tried alcohol before,” Gilda fretted, opting to set the bottle down in front of her. “Normally, fae folk achieve the same result from a nice bowl of cream, but we fall asleep to quickly to enjoy it.”

“I won’t judge you if you’re a lightweight!” Charlie encouraged, digging through a drawer for anything resembling a bottle opener. “I’m not always so great about holding my liquor either, heh…had more than a few blackouts in my Comic Con days.”

Just as her fingers closed around a miniature corkscrew, Charlie turned around to see Gilda experimentally swishing the bottle back and forth, a little too violently for her tastes.

“Woah, woah, Gilda!” Charlie held out her hands placatingly. “Careful, it’s carbonated!”

Startled, Gilda set the bottle back on the table, shying away from it as though it might burst into shards at any moment. Tiny bubbles had begun accumulating on the interior of the glass, gravitating towards the top. This thing was a ticking time bomb…

…Then again, Charlie reasoned, maybe that didn’t _have_ to be a bad thing.

“You know what?” Charlie decided, shrugging. “Fuck it, it’s already shaken. Let’s pop this bad boy!”

That only served to alarm Gilda further. “You _want_ it to explode?”

“People usually only do it on special occasions, but it’s nearly Christmas, soooo…why not?”

“…Right,” Gilda recalled, lightly shaking herself. “The human holiday. You mentioned that was coming up soon. Is forcing bottles of champagne to explode a Christmas tradition?”

“More of a New Year’s thing, actually,” Charlie replied, gingerly lifting the bottle off the tabletop. “But I don’t wanna have wait until next year to get a taste of this.”

Slowly rising to her feet, Gilda nodded. “Fair enough. Just…please, do be careful.”

“It shouldn’t make too big of a mess.” Even as she said that, though, Charlie had her doubts. This hotel room was pretty nice, the kind she could only afford after a period spent saving up and hacking to accumulate funds. Nicely polished tiles made up the floor and walls of the kitchenette, but surely it wouldn’t be so bad to clean, right?

Worst case scenario, Gilda always had her store of Avalonian magic to fall back on. That girl had all sorts of tricks up her sleeve, and Charlie never took for granted how awesome it was to have a fairy for a girlfriend.

Sticking the sharp end of the corkscrew into the bottle’s cork, Charlie scanned the walls. Which area should she aim for? Ideally, one that would risk the least amount of cleanup.

Mind made up, she dug the screw into the block of cork, spiraling down until she could no longer. Gilda peered over her shoulder, ever curious yet cautious.

“Stand back, babe,” Charlie intoned, channeling the confidence of Princess Leia. “This could get a little messy.”

With a dramatic flourish, Charlie yanked on the corkscrew. It didn’t come flying loose in a shower of foam and rain like she’d been expecting, but a few more hard tugs and it began to slip out. She could feel pressure beneath the cork, pushing it outwards to help along the process, and ultimately the resulting explosion caught her off guard.

A massive pop echoed around the kitchenette as the screwed cork was sent flying into the far wall. An eruption of volcanic proportions burst forth from the bottle’s mouth, splashing with such force that some of it flew backwards and clumped against Charlie’s face and hair.

Flinching, Charlie angled the bottle further away, but was still met with a handful of stinging, fizzy droplets against her cheeks. By the time the explosion had slowed to a dribble, the foam was already beginning to slide down her red locks and pool at her shoulders.

 _…This is almost more humiliating than when Cas caught me reading fanfiction about him and Dean,_ Charlie groaned inwardly, sure that she’d made a fool of herself.

Yet, a tittering, flowery laughter filled her left ear. Gilda’s face was softly scrunched in hysterical laughter, but not the derisive kind. No, Charlie knew this laugh as her reveling laugh.

The foam’s wrath hadn’t spared Gilda, either. Some had caught on her collarbone, soaking into her flowy white nightgown. More had sprayed across her bangs, giving off the illusion of ridiculous frosted tips. And then…some was sliding down the length of her right wing, leaving a fizzling trail.

“O-oh god,” Charlie stammered, hands hovering over the wing yet too scared to touch. “I didn’t mean for—does it hurt, should I, um—”

“It’s fine, Charlie,” Gilda soothed, an ethereal light lifting her voice. “I enjoyed that, and my wing is just fine. It would take a lot more than some flying foam to damage a fairy’s wings.”

“…R-right,” Charlie mumbled, still feeling entirely at fault. She set the leaking bottle down on the tabletop to give Gilda her full attention. “I’m still so, so sorry, I didn’t mean for it to happen like that.”

A smile brighter than the sun graced Gilda’s features. Her soft-as-silk hands reached to cradle Charlie’s face, smudging some of the champagne spray. “You don’t have to apologize. I enjoy the whimsical things I get to experience with you. Earth may lack the magic of Avalon, but I have all the wonder I need here with you.”

Before Charlie could even begin to process that, Gilda leaned forward to smush her lips around her face, gently licking up some of the champagne. The fairy retreated, swishing the substance around thoughtfully in her mouth before swallowing.

“Hmm. It tastes…fizzy. But not unpleasant.” Gilda smirked and batted her eyes. “Doesn’t taste as good as you, though.”

Flushing brighter than her hair, Charlie draped her arms over Gilda’s shoulders. “Have I ever told you that you’re a master flirt?”

“Several times, yes.”

Each silently agreed to both punctuate and test the topic at hand with a string of sweet, intimate kisses. The foam ended up a bit smeared, and the rest of the unspilled champagne ended up forgotten, but Charlie didn’t care; she’d found something so, so much sweeter.

_Thus ends the eighteenth day of Christmas._

**Author's Note:**

> I need to write Charlie more often uGH SHE'S MY GORL


End file.
